WTF? A Carlos Oliveira Story
by Brad Heisler
Summary: Ashley is kidnapped, yet again. This time by a South America based cult. Who's sent in to save her? Carlos Oliveira. I'm trying to help ShadowLeggy make the Carlos/Ashley relationship work here so this should be interesting.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the start of my effort to promote ShadowLeggy (youtube. com/User/ShadowLeggy) 's famous Carlos/Ashley relationship. It originally wasn't supposed to be as serious as it seems like its going to turn out to be, but whatever. Hopefully you can forgive any problems with the Carlos character, I haven't played RE3 yet so I can't say I really know his character all too well. Anyway, enjoy.**

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A lone car lurched across the barren waste of Southern America. A light rain drizzled down, washing the car and softening the terrain. Several times during its trek the car almost didn't hobble over a steep incline or stuck itself in the mud, but it refused to stop until it reached Jimsburg. 

Driving the car was a South American _policia_, staring ahead with a cold glare and a cigarette pressed between his lips. In the back seat of the car, staring out the window, sat a man clad in green BDU's and a black suede jacket. His skin was a light brown and his hair had a reddish tint to it.

He turned his eyes away from the monotonous backdrop and settled his gaze upon the M4A1 assault rifle that lay beside him. He had denied every weapon the goverment had offered him in favor of this. It had saved him from zombie infested Raccoon City, it could save him from anything.

He turned back to the window as the events that brought him here came flooding back to him. He had been working opposite Leon Scott Kennedy for months now, as Ashley Graham's bodyguard. His half of the job consisted mostly of playing his Game Boy out in the hallway while Ashley slept in her glorious bedroom. It was a boring job but it was easy and safe and the pay was pretty damn good.

After a while though, Ashley must have gotten tired of Leon because she requested a new day time bodyguard. So he was set to be the new guard. At the end of his last night shift, he offered Leon his Game Boy, saying, "You'll need it," with a half accent that's slightly hard to place. Leon declined with a smile and removed a PSP from his pocket.

All throughout the night before his first day, he couldn't get to sleep. Tossing and turning about, something was wrong, he just didn't know what. After hours of restlessness, a deep sleep washed over him.

He was surrounded. They were everywhere, moaning and groaning, hungering for his flesh. His M4 was resting in his hands and it felt good, felt real. He had let too many of those _things_ get too close, too fast. A flick of the thumb put the rifle in full auto and he blasted away at the closest ghouls.

BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BAM!

One after another they fell.

BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BAM!

Bullets erupted from the barrel,

BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BAM!

cascading into their marks. 30 rounds passed

BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BAM!

and he dropped the magazine and pulled another out from his vest pouch. As he slid the mag into the gun, a roar filled his ears.

"STAAAAAARSSS"

Turning around, he saw, on top of the Raccoon City Police Station, a hulking monster, veins and tentacles protruding from it, holding high a body. With a deadly force, the monster threw the corpse at him. A split second after he rolled away, the body slammed into the street next to him. The force of the hit sent blood splattering all over his face and clothes among other places. He looked over at the body and saw, staring at him with empty eyes the cold, bloody, face of Jill Valentine.

He screamed. He woke up screaming. By the time he arrived at the White House, the dream had left him but the feeling it carried with it remained.

People were running all about and he was rushed inside. Susan Graham, the first lady, was heard throughout the house, crying hysterically. He walked up to the head of the secret service and asked what the situation was. Unfortunately, history had repeated itself and Ashley Graham was missing yet again.

And now, sitting in the back of a South American _policia_ car, he was wishing, hoping, that history wouldn't repeat itself again in Jimsburg. It was the place Ashley Graham was supposedly seen last. It was also a religious compound lead by one of the surviving members of Jonestown.

He whispered to himself, "Don't drink the kool-aid, Ashley." This statement, which might have been funny in other circumstances, simply dribbled out of his mouth aimlessly in his half accent.

After a couple more minutes of silent contemplation, a fence appeared in the distance. Something was slumped over the top of it. It was tie-dyed red with rust.

As the car neared the fence, the figure atop it revealed itself to be a person. Closer yet, the blades of the razor wire shone into being and it didn't take long to see after that, that the red rust was in fact a crimson blood.

The driver stopped at the fence and said, "_Aqui es donde yo pago, se__ñ__or_."

The green and black figure picked up the M4 and stepped out of the car, staring past the fence. He walked up and grabbed the chain link, thinking. After a minute or so, the _policia_ took a U-Turn and started driving away. He'd get an evac chopper when the subject was procured.

He muttered to himself, "Welcome to Jimsburg, Carlos Oliviera."


	2. Chapter 2

**Finally, after two months I've finally finished Chapter 2. Well, two months and fourteen days but who's counting? Hahaha. Anyway, thanks to the five people that have read chapter 1 and the three people that actually reviewed it, especially Muu-chan who, whether they meant to or not, kicked my ass back in gear and got Chapter 2 finished. Well have fun with it, please review it, and remember to check out Shadow Leggy's stuff (youtube. com/User/ShadowLeggy).**

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Carlos watched as the _policia_ disappeared over the horizon. Then he turned back to the fence. It was rimmed with a wave of razor wire and topped with a corpse. Despite the rain, the fence still glistened with a scarlet coat of blood. Beads of water and red dripped off the body and, upon impact, were swallowed up by the ground.

It would take too long to walk around the fence and time was not a luxury he had. He looked again at the body and the image of Jill's empty face flashed through his mind and sent shivers down his spine. What if it was a zombie? The thought ran throughout his head. No. It couldn't have been. Umbrella was shut down years ago. Its been seven years since Raccoon City. Well, six years, ten months and twenty nine days, but who's counting? Plus, if it were a zombie, it'd be trying to eat things. People, animals, him. It would have at least moved. But it didn't. It just stayed put, sprawled over the fence. Carlos just stayed put, staring at it. The memory of that horrid outbreak years ago just stayed put. Everything around him, all just stayed put.

"It's fine." _Eets fine,_ he decided. He grasped the chain link in his hand and ascended the fence. He reached the body and he could just imagine it taking a chunk right out of him, so he grabbed it underneath the chin as a precaution. He climbed onto the body, using it as a barrier to keep himself away from the razor wire.

When he was safely on the other side of the fence, he grabbed the corpse's boots and jumped down, pulling the body with him. If it was a zombie, he didn't want it to get to the outside world. He couldn't stop being paranoid, but a mutilated body isn't exactly a sign that everything is all fine and dandy.

He started walking towards where he hoped the center of the compound would be. It wouldn't show itself in the horizon, but enough walking would surely put it in sight.

Carlos walked and walked. His M4 rested in his hands like a tiger, crouched and ready to attack. Carlos pressed onwards. Hours passed and still the compound wasn't in sight. Apparently the encampment was bigger than anticipated. The air was still. Nothing moved but Carlos, steadily continuing on. The quiet was stifling.

After a day of nothing but walking, Carlos camped out for the night. The air was stiff all through the night, no sound, no wind, no animals, nothing. He had trouble sleeping yet again and he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched but he heard nothing.

Eventually, awakeness slipped away from him and he fell into sleep.

Carlos looked around. He stood on a white square on a marble tiled floor. To his left, on a black square, stood Jill Valentine, looking most certainly alive. To her left was the famed Chris Redfield, then a twenty something year old girl with red hair and a motorcycle jacket and then a man standing proud and tall, a large .44 revolver in his hand, the most powerful handgun in the world. Beyond him was a condensed version of the Raccoon City Police Department building. Off to his right, Carlos saw Leon S. Kennedy, and the White House, in the same small form as the R.P.D. building. Jill and Leon both threw him a look and a nod and then stared straight ahead.

Carlos turned to see what they were looking at. Lined up in front of Carlos, Jill, Leon and the rest was the United States Army, and beyond them, across the checkered floor was a legion of the undead. Beyond them, lined from left to right was a smaller Spencer Mansion, then Albert Wesker, standing in a cool, calm and collected pose. Next to him was a woman in a red dress, looking awfully bitchy. A dark silhouette loomed next to the bitch in the red dress, and a floating Umbrella logo next to the shadow. Wrapping up the fiendish line was a gas masked figure, the hulking Nemesis and an unnamed Umbrella facility.

Everything started moving all at once. The zombies and the military moved towards each other and then locked in combat. Leon immediately attacked, avoiding the zombies and going straight for the floating Umbrella logo, which proceeded to launch lasers in all directions. Nemesis vaulted into the air, straight for Jill but .44 aimed his revolver and shot him out of the air, stunning him, at least for the time being. Chris and Wesker charged at each other, and fought, jumping all around the floor in a flurry of fists and gunshots.

Then, all of the buildings uprooted themselves. They slide across the ground, crushing zombies and soldiers alike and ramming into each other. Red-head and Jill attacked the bitch in the red dress, all while taking out zombies and avoiding flying buildings.

The man in the gas mask dispatched two soldiers with two bullets and then snuck behind .44 and slit his throat. Carlos, recovering from his state of shock fired off half a clip at him and gas mask fell to his knees. Before his body completely hit the ground, Spencer Mansion crashed into him. Red-head killed Red-dress and Jill jumped into the passing Mansion. Chris and Wesker fought ferociously all across the field, punching, throwing, shooting at each other. All of the soldiers lay dead, and the few zombies remaining moved to attack all others. The floating logo lay smashed on the ground. Next to it, the silhouette simply stood and watched the chaos enfolding around him.

Jill jumped from the Mansion, which promptly exploded. The explosion caused the White House to fall over, landing on Nemesis and Claire, crushing both of them. The remaining too building were in a far off corner, smashing into each other. They remained shells of what they once were, but neither gave up. Leon was surrounded by zombies. He attempted to fend them off and Carlos fired upon them. Despite killing two of the four remaining, his efforts were in vain. He reloaded and dropped the last two zombies within the first ten shots, but he continued to fire the entire magazine at them, furious.

Chris and Wesker continued to fight each other, neither even appeared to be tired. Unlike those two, the buildings in the corner crumbled away to rubble. Carlos stood and turned around and around, letting the image of the massacre seep into him. He saw Jill standing across from him, staring around in disbelief as well.

Then it happened. From behind Jill, gas mask stood up and wrapped his hands around her neck. With a quick twist, her neck snapped and she fell to the ground.

He screamed. He woke up screaming. Morning had come. The feeling of terror still clung to him. The fight he was just in, it had felt so real. He honestly felt in his heart afraid for Jill. But he was on a mission now. Ashley Graham was more important no matter what. The zombies are gone and Jill can take care of herself anyway.

The fear slowly drifted away, hiding itself in the back of his head.

Carlos suited himself up and got back to the tedious job of walking. Then he saw it. On the horizon. It was just a shape, a shadow, but it filled him with something. Adrenaline, anxiety, something like that. He proceeded slowly to it.

About a hundred yards away he could see the fine details of it more definitely. It was a woman dressed in a white sweat shirt and sweat pants. Or at least they had been white at one point. She was completely covered in blood. She simply stood there, staring at the ground. Carlos slowly walked towards her.

When he was within fifty feet of the woman, she lifted up her head to look at him.

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**Oh my god! Cliffhanger:)**


End file.
